Empty Chair
by InfinityStar
Summary: Her empty chair was a constant reminder that she wasn't there, but even away on leave, she was with him. Oneshot.


**A/N: As always, they aren't mine and the only thing I get from them is enjoyment (which is why they exist) and a satisfied muse...**

* * *

He flipped through the file in front of him, letting his thoughts wander. He was almost there...he almost had it... "Eames..."

Looking up, seeing her empty seat yet again, he groaned softly. After nearly two months, you would think he'd remember. But the truth of the matter was...he didn't _want_ to remember that she was not there.

"Did you find something?"

He turned around to look at Bishop. Eames wasn't here, but Bishop was...and that annoyed him. He couldn't explain it. He tried not to take it out on her and he was successful, mostly. After all, it wasn't her fault she wasn't Eames. And it was his issue, not hers. It wasn't fair of him to take it out on her.

He sighed. "No," he answered. "I just...had a thought. Never mind."

He turned back to the file without elaborating but he didn't look at it right away. His eyes lingered on his partner's empty chair. He folded his hands and pressed his mouth against them, elbows on the desk. He'd known it wasn't going to be easy when she'd told him about her surrogacy and reminded him he would need a temporary partner. He hadn't been wrong. But what he had not expected was _how_ hard it had been. Every single case, in one way or another, had reminded him that she was not there. And he in turn had reminded Bishop, nearly every time, that she was not Eames.

"Maybe I can help."

Another surge of annoyance shot through him, but he fought it down. He tried to share his thoughts and ideas with her, but he couldn't stomach the looks she gave him. Where Eames just rolled her eyes or made some wise-ass remark, Bishop looked at him like he had three heads. Sometimes, she looked downright frightened...as if he might actually hurt her. She didn't know him, and she didn't want to. Where Eames could often complete his thoughts, Bishop didn't even want to _hear_ half of them. When he tried to joke, Bishop never got his subtle humor. Eames would have. He resigned himself to a stark reality that he had already suspected. There was only one partner for him, and it wasn't Bishop.

"No. I don't think so."

He lowered his eyes back to the file. He called her every night when he got home, to make sure she was doing okay. He wanted to tell her he missed her, but he didn't have to. This was Eames. She knew. But did she know how much he missed her? That he wasn't sure about. Did she know how...unsettled he was...how much closer to the edge he skittered when she wasn't around to keep him grounded? No. How could she? But he didn't want her to worry or feel guilty for being away, so he didn't say anything.

"Is it the case?"

He turned and looked back at Bishop. He wasn't going to get anywhere if she kept talking. The fact that he wasn't getting anywhere anyway didn't quite register. Again, he fought down his irritation. She was trying. It wasn't her fault he intimidated her. He really wasn't trying to. But he also wasn't going to pussyfoot around to keep from sending her running for cover. The fact that she hadn't yet surprised him. She was determined to work with him, not to be scared off by the big, quirky genius. But he saw that she was uncertain with him. And again he missed his partner.

"It's nothing you can help with, Bishop. I'm trying to get a handle on motive, on what was going through this guy's head."

_Why do you assume it was a man?_ Eames' voice danced through his mind. He got an odd look on his face and Bishop unconsciously backed up, away from him. He spun in his chair, flipping through the file again. Looking up at her empty chair, he smiled. Even gone, she was with him. Goren and Eames...he could no longer function as an individual unit, and he no longer wanted to. Genius and instability often went hand-in-hand, but he was no longer unstable. He had Eames. Slapping the file shut and shoving it into his binder he got to his feet, sending his chair spinning with a bang into the desk.

"Come on, Bishop. We need to talk to the girlfriend again."

She scurried to keep up with his long stride while he made a mental note to thank Eames, again, for never leaving him.


End file.
